


Last Resort

by YsaX64



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Dorothea is tired, F/M, Feelings, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Golden Deer spoilers, Hubert is Bad At Feelings, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mentioned Black Eagles Students, Verdant Wind Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 03:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20539658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YsaX64/pseuds/YsaX64
Summary: After Fort Merceus' fall, Hubert faces himself trapped between his loyalty and his logicalness. For him, the choice is obvious. The path he carved led him there and he would never turn back. But he could at least make use of his last resort.





	Last Resort

**Author's Note:**

> Eyy so I read Hubert's letter in GD and oh boy I got the feels in all the right ways. I had to do something about it and I admit it ended up much longer than I previously imagined but heya, thank you for clicking and enjoy your read.

“And that concludes my report, Lady Edelgard.”

If Edelgard noticed the slight hitch in Hubert’s voice, she didn’t say anything. On the contrary, she kept her back turned to him, glancing at papers and maps. Not like it makes a difference, the grim thought lingered over his head.

Javelins of light had descended from the sky, something akin to divine punishment but not quite, and pulverized Fort Merceus to the ground, alongside their comrades, Caspar von Bergliez and Linhardt von Hrezving. In an even more bittersweet note, none of the noteworthy generals from Claude and Byleth’s army had died in the rain of destruction.

Out of the Black Eagles, only Edelgard, Hubert and Dorothea remained.

Edelgard stayed silent for a few more moments, enough for Hubert to shift on his feet, not daring to speak up. The Emperor turned on her heels, coldness seeping from her expression, glacial eyes that would be inscrutable to anyone else, but Hubert could see the raging storm it betrayed underneath.

“I see that the fabled technology of old isn’t nearly as amazing as our _ allies _ made it out to be.”

If the word “allies” had been spoken by a black mamba, it still wouldn’t have been half as venomous. Yet Hubert maintained his composure, back straight as he continued.

“I assume they still don’t know about the threat that slithers in the dark, Lady Edelgard, if their next target truly is Enbarr.” 

Edelgard nodded in his response, evading her gaze.

“It seems like it is finally time for us to go to the defensive,” he supplied, “Our enemies will be upon us soon and, in order to gather proper battalions and preparations in case of a siege, we will need time.”

“Time we both know we don’t have.”

Her eyes snapped back to him, a devilish sight as she wore her crown of ram horns and golden burdens. Yet Hubert did not waver from the piercing gaze.

“True, but we need to make use of whatever little we have. Especially considering that, well, odds are none of the rats that linger in the dark will come for our aid no more.”

Her jaw tightened like she was a predator trying to bite a prey that just evaded his fangs. Hubert always thought of it as a great analogy, the eagle trying to pick the wicked rats from the shadows they hid. Still, it wasn’t nearly as accurate as he would like, because the rats were going to escape, while the eagle had other battles to win.

The mental image was bitter, for he knew the situation they were in. No matter how he tried to approach it, the Imperial Forces were stranded in Enbarr, cut off from their supply lines, the strongest allies they had scurried back to the shadows they belonged. Their path was masked in fog and he knew there was an abyss waiting for them. 

It was part of the double-edged sword of being too much of a logical person.

Perhaps if he were more passional, the unwavering loyalty he pledged could seep into his mind and avoid the dark paths his fears dared to tread. Not that he was hesitating, not truly. Hubert couldn't falter. Yet the possibility of failure, that was in the back of his mind merely a month ago, now seemed dreadfully close. 

To ignore it would be imprudent, but to think about it was gut-wrenching. 

And his mind was filled with "what-ifs" and "what-abouts" while his Emperor stared right back at him. Once he snapped back to reality, Edelgard's lips curled up in a small smile, yet her voice was toneless. 

"Even you are out of pace, aren't you?"

He bowed down slightly, a sudden lack of energy infecting his limbs.

"My apologies, Your Majesty," he shook his head, "It is unlike me to be so inattentive."

"Yes, it indeed is."

Edelgard’s response lingered in the air for a moment before she waved a dismissal.

"Start to make the proper preparations, Hubert," she sighed, "Our next days will be long."

* * *

Hubert sat down in his office, the moon high in the sky already. He didn’t care. In fact, he cared for nothing other than the map before him, after tracing possibility after possibility. He was close, close to finally finding just the right spot for his backstab. 

Lord Arundel had proposed the idea of using “javelins of light” against Fort Merceus, speaking with a particular arrogant tone. The kind of tone that spoke volumes about one’s ego and yet gave no explanation. Hubert and Edelgard had pondered if it was wise to allow them to unleash such power, which could destroy Enbarr in a glance without even a fair fight. The decision was to allow them to destroy the fort, in case they lost it. Hubert couldn’t be sure if they had truly followed these orders or if they just rained down lightning when they thought fit. 

Hubert blinked rapidly, his strength failing him as his arms dropped to the side. Surviving off coffee and willpower had always been his specialty — hence his permanent dark circles — but the last few days have been particularly busy. Not that he cared, by any means. It was all worth it for the possibility of finding Shambhala.

That is, in case he lived to see it. 

The grim thought gnawed on his brain, appearing whenever he faltered. Hubert shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck as he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. The map before him was marked with black ink, tracing from the now-former Bergliez territory to the depths of the Hrym territory, where mountains ranged far and wide, serving as the natural separation between Hrym and Ordelia. But the true location of Shambhala remained vague.

Now Hubert understood clearly why Volkhard von Arundel had chosen this moment to offer his javelins of light. It was strategically perfect and that much was enough to flare rage inside his soul. If the javelins had succeeded in destroying Claude’s forces, the greatest opposition to the Empire forces would have been squashed. Even if it didn’t work, the threat of divine punishment would be enough to spark the doubt and indecision in the minds of their enemies. And, as a bonus, it could be used as an underlying threat to them as well.

_ “We have enough power to destroy you. Don’t cross us.” _

He gritted his teeth as his eyes focused on the mountain range, wishing he had power like those who slither had, and that his eyes could conjure similar javelins to destroy the wretched nest of rats. That did not come to fruition, even if some childish, annoying part of Hubert’s mind wished it did. 

Shifting on his seat, he tapped a finger on his lips, his more rational side arising once again. Within a moment, his eyes widened, as realization washed him like cold water.

Of course Shambhala was so hard to track. It was subterraneous. The mountains in Hrym had caverns and tunnels, all of them that could be used as multiple entrances and escapes routes. And, one entrance, in particular, was wide enough for immense javelins of light. With a swift trace of a feather, he pinpointed Shambhala’s location.

Hubert expected to feel a sting of pride or at least the warmth of relief, however, neither came. What appeared, instead, was what he dreaded the most.

_ Will any of this be worth it?_

Hubert gulped, his legs numb as he got up and stormed out of his office. There was no place for doubt inside of his mind.

* * *

Edelgard got used to the wine cellar. One would never think that a place to store alcohol could be so stabilizing for her, but it was. Within the darkness of the basement, the lower floors of her castle in Enbarr, the climate barely changed during day or night, the temperate weather of the Adrestian Empire favoring such luxury. It was almost as if she could spend a whole day nestled there and time would not pass.

_ You don’t have such luxuries. _

The voice in the back of her head lingered, but Edelgard promptly ignored it. Perhaps it was right, it wasn’t prudent to wander in the wine cellars in the dark of the night, however, she had a rebellious streak flaring within, one that sometimes refused to obey the whims of her own mind out of pure stubbornness. And so she wandered among the wines, sharp eyes trying to choose one in order to indulge a little bit, at least for this night.

What she didn’t expect was for the voice in the back of her head to gain form, a very familiar form indeed.

“Lady Edelgard, wouldn’t be more proper to rest during a time like this?”

She stopped in her tracks but did not give him the satisfaction of seeing her turn around, keeping her back turned to him as she spoke.

“I could say the same to you, Hubert,” her tone turned lighter as she continued, “If someone saw you wandering in the dark so late at night, I would end up with one less guard in my service.”

She could almost see, even without turning around, his lips curling up in a capricious, perverse smirk. If Hubert had planned on insisting on the subject of sleep, then he dropped it much quicker than she would have expected. 

“I can’t do anything if so many guards are faint of heart, Your Majesty. Perhaps they just have water instead of blood running in their veins.”

The thought brought a chuckle out of her lips, as she spared him a glance over her shoulder. Hubert, at first glance, seemed as impeccable as ever, back straight and a glint in his green catlike eyes. Yet she could see through the cracks in his façade. The dark circles in his eyes, which had turned permanent in the last five years, were deeper than usual; his ghastly skin paler than the moonlight itself, granting him an appearance even gaunter than the bloodsucking monsters of children’s books.

“Perhaps it is more likely that they think you have ice or poison instead of blood.”

Hubert shrugged in response, uncaring of any of the rumors surrounding his person. After all, his reputation was more useful than harmful, as he would put it. This carefully crafted mystique of the mysterious and dangerous servant of Lady Edelgard. This creature between man and serpent that was invoked whenever his name was brought up. This heartless monster that had been conjured, melted and formed from House Vestra's scion.

Edelgard allowed the silence to linger for a moment longer before she gestured to the bottles, inviting him to take his pick. He nodded in response, his bony fingers tracing over, almost like a cat looking for something to topple and break.

His hand settled on an indigo colored bottle, pulling it out of the shelf gently. A well-aged Dagdan wine, which spent quite a few decades maturing into perfection.

"A perfect pick, as expected."

Hubert nodded in response, his lips curling into a slight smile as he offered the bottle to her. Edelgard inspected it for a few moments before smiling back at him.

"Well then, a fine wine like this one would certainly be wasted by drinking in a basement like this," Edelgard prodded, feeling a streak of boldness even before taking any alcohol, "Shall we go?"

Hubert squinted his eyes, as if he had just snapped out of a dream, and voiced the same things that Edelgard had been trying to suppress.

"I think it is hardly the time for such indulgence, your Majesty," he hissed, his own tone far too even, "We both need sleep and there is still much to be done."

Edelgard pursed her lips, pondering for a moment before answering truthfully.

"We both know far too well how peaceful my nights are. This is one of those days in which, no matter how tired I am, I can't seem to sleep," she sighed, averting his gaze, "Also, I believe Caspar would enjoy a toast on his name."

Hubert let out a dry laugh.

"If we are going to truly honor Caspar, we should try drinking lamp oil. Whatever he enjoying drinking with the other soldiers might as well have been it."

To anyone else, Hubert's response might have seemed terribly inadequate. Edelgard knew better.

If Hubert truly didn't care for Caspar, he wouldn't even have dignified a response. The mighty, fearsome Minister of the Imperial Household would have nodded, yet said nothing. He wasn't one for condolences after all.

"If not for him, then for Linhardt, perhaps? Or Ferdinand, Bernadetta, Petra..."

She trailed off, gaze snapping back to Hubert. He was staring intently, green eyes glinting in the darkness; his mouth a fine, tense line. Almost pensive, almost devoid of the coldness that had infected his heart at a young age.

"Very well, Lady Edelgard."

He gestured to the door, inviting her to lead. Taking the offer, Edelgard stepped forward, with Hubert following close behind. Not a living soul in Enbarr would dare questioning where the two of them were going and so the walk was silent. Until Edelgard reached her destination. 

"Your quarters, are you sure?"

She gazed at him from over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised. Hubert stiffed under her gaze, his eyes confused, expressing the question that almost left his lips, but not quite. _ Why? _ The truth was that she didn’t know either. An impulse, probably. At least, she couldn’t point out any particular reason, besides her own trust in her faithful confidant and desire for them to be alone together.

“Do you have any objections?” 

Instead of trying to justify what even she couldn’t comprehend, Edelgard posed on the offensive, her tone even and low. As expected, Hubert did not yield so easily. 

“To invite a man to share a drink, so late at night,” he whispered, voice low and husky, “Rumors are sure to arise and I would rather not harm your reputation, Your Majesty. It is known that we are close, but gossip is a fickle beast.”

“If you were truly the kind of man to be swayed by such rumors, you wouldn’t be at my service,” she let out a quick laugh, “Or perhaps you would be worried about the chitchat of the scaled tail that you hide under your cloak or the white claws you have beneath your gloves.”

He clicked his tongue, squinting his eyes in annoyance, but Edelgard merely opened the door to her quarters. Gesturing for him to follow her, she didn't wait for him, for she knew that wherever she went, he would follow.

And he did not disappoint.

Hubert closed the door behind him, not making even a squeak. In contrast, Edelgard strode to the table close to a window, letting the moonlight shine upon them.

Her room was spacious, but not needlessly indulgent, unlike her predecessors. Time and experience made her value the simplicity in private, with no demonstrations of power to be made. A king-sized bed in the corner was probably the closest of a luxury that she had, if one were not to count the armoire, in which Aymr laid dormant.

Hubert, quick on his feet, placed a pair of wine glasses on the table and then pulled a chair for her.

"Thank you," she said, out of politeness.

Hubert merely nodded, taking his own place opposite to her.

"You're welcome, Lady Edelgard."

_ Lady Edelgard. _

It was something usual. A handful of words that had turned into a habit for both of them. He was her loyal servant, those words made the distinction clear, even when they were sitting together late at night a bottle of wine. A distance that he had put there himself; a restriction that was by no means her deed. He was closer to her than anyone else and yet he insisted on staying one step behind. Hubert poured wine for each of them, careful to not stain his white gloves with the crimson liquid. A faithful servant, through and through. His eyes snapped back to her, the moonlight granting them a haunting golden shade. He raised his own glass, inviting her. She took the chance.

The glasses clinked together.

"A toast for the fallen," she whispered.

Hubert nodded in response and they both took the glasses to their lips, taking a generous sip. The wine was dry, but with a hint of sweetness on the tip of her tongue, leaving her with a tingling sensation. Even after she had swallowed, the lingering bitterness persisted, the bold taste drawing out in her mouth.

When she put the glass aside, Hubert was staring back at her, head tilted to the side like a curious cat.

"I take that my choice was correct." There was a hint of a smile in his words, a pride that he couldn't deny. His lips were red from the wine in sharp contrast with his pale skin. So terribly fitting considering all the rumors that he drank the blood of his victims or whatnot. 

"Surely a better idea than your previous suggestion of drinking lamp oil," she teased, drawing out the smile from his lips, "Regardless, yes, this was quite a espetacular choice."

Hubert nodded in response, averting his gaze to the window, reflecting the outside. From her quarters, high in the castle, one could see almost all of fort, some of the villages beyond the walls and even the mountains and forests surrounding their domain. 

She followed suit, taking her time with the moon and the stars, the dark sky and all underneath. Edelgard poured more wine for herself, observing the scenery in all the ways she couldn't at any other time. She sipped occasionally, with no sound from Hubert.

Blinking slowly, Edelgard came to realize she didn't need to talk to him. If it were anyone else, maybe she would feel forced to start some conversation, small talk as silly as it could be. But not with Hubert. She could stay there, glancing over the horizon and he would remain quiet, equally comfortable with the silence and each other's presence. 

Her mind was relaxed, even, her eyes focusing on the details of the landscape. Not unlike a book in which the focus shifts to a seemingly random object, just to give importance to it in a grand scene. But no such scene would happen. Edelgard was alone with Hubert and all was fine.

She didn't keep track of the wine glasses she had drunk, nor of the ones that Hubert drank. Still, at some point, her peaceful silence was broken by the very person besides her.

"Your Majesty."

She turned to him, slowly, almost lazily. He was staring at her, green eyes focusing on her expression as he paused with his mouth parted in a sigh. Conversely, Edelgard awaited for him, but he was frozen, his chest barely moving his breathing. When he continued, a tinge of reticence tainted his even tone.

"Would you consider a possibility if I were to ask you?"

Edelgard raised an eyebrow, observing his flushed cheeks, a rare sight. The alcohol? Or maybe something else? She couldn't be sure but answered him regardless.

"Of course. Show me," she rested her chin on her hand, now forgetting about the land beyond.

Hubert averted his to the window, a finger tapping on the glass of wine, now empty. His cheeks were flushed, providing a contrast with the paleness of his skin and the sharpness of his features. 

"Lady Edelgard, do you consider the possibility of retreating?"

If such a question were a punch in the gut, it wouldn't have been as effective on stealing the air from her lungs. In spite of what must have been obvious stupor, Hubert continued, perhaps with the alcohol in his veins providing him with the courage to keep going.

"Earlier tonight, I found the location of Shambhala. With this information, we could easily handpick a handful of elite soldiers and storm the place. Given that now we have such important information, it might be prudent to retreat, for now."

Edelgard raised an eyebrow but otherwise said nothing, letting out a breath. Nevertheless, Hubert continued, his words going down a path that she did not want to tread.

"I made preparations for our retreat. We could let the citizens scatter — the professor and Claude are both too humane to let them starve — we could burn the crops and whatever useful on our way out, like this they would have no resources to harvest."

He ran one hand in his hair, baring the green — or golden? — eye he always hid. His cheeks were now a bright pink and she couldn't tell if it was just because of the alcohol.

"By retreating, they would have what they need, Enbarr, and we would have a resource even more precious: time." His eyes snapped back to hers, unflinching as he continued, "There is nothing strategic about simply fighting a war of friction. Our poor farmers clad in iron against their poor shepherds clad in iron. We have to win this and, for now, all we can hope for is time."

He bit his bottom lip — a rare gesture for one such as him. For a moment, Edelgard stared back at him, frozen in time. If it were anyone else, she would have laughed at the prospect or even ended up offended. But it was Hubert von Vestra, her most loyal servant, friend and more. 

And so she considered it, but just for a moment. Then, Edelgard laughed. Not some sort of delicate, noble laugh, but a laugh from the chest, that bloomed from her lungs and dared to consume all. And Hubert waited, expression unchanged, back straight and tense as he toyed with the glass of wine. It took a moment for her to regain her composure.

"Just like always, Hubert, you are right," the words left her lips in a whisper, as she stared back at him, "But, just like always, I don't think I will hear you."

He closed his eyes slowly in response, the corner of his mouth twitching in a sad smile. 

"I imagined as much. I like to believe that I know you well enough so that I knew this was the answer all along."

"And yet you asked."

"And yet I asked."

Truly, his proposal was reasonable and rational. A product of his extreme logical mindset, one that she ended up used to after more than twenty years of knowing and trusting Hubert with her life. Nevertheless, even though his logic was sound, there was something visceral in her that refused the idea. Edelgard rested her elbow on the table, hand on her chin as she smiled, devoid of happiness or any intention of yielding.

"It's true, that would be the prudent choice. Safe and strategic. Just like you," she teased, her tone light despite the heavy subject, "But I'm not you, Hubert. I could never retreat back to the shadows. Do you remember Lord Lonato?"

Hubert nodded in response, as he took a sip of his wine, presumably to keep himself stable.

"Do you remember what I said when everyone else was deeming him insane or at least unstable?"

"You said that you understood him. The feeling of indignation, of not being able to help himself and fight even if it was hopeless, even if you had to rally your subjects for a doomed cause. You said that you would do the same in his position."

Edelgard nodded with a smirk on her face, the lines of her face softening.

"Precisely. I would expect nothing else of you, Hubert," she tapped her finger on her own glass of wine, "I know that we can turn the tide of this war if only we can defend Enbarr. And, with this, we will maintain our morale while buying ourselves time. Some things cannot be half-done, my friend. One does not half-loves, half-lives or half-wins. I will either get out of it alive and victorious or…"

She trailed off as Hubert visibly shuddered, his face turned into a scowl. Edelgard closed her eyes in response, offering a bit of her own logical view for him.

"We both know it is a possibility."

He raised an eyebrow, letting out a sigh.

"I am fully aware, Your Majesty. It doesn't make thinking about it any less _ gut-wrenching. _"

If he had tried to sound like a snake, he wouldn't have hissed better. The sound drew a laugh out of her, the alcohol in her veins drawing out its effects. Laughing even when discussing the possibility of her own impending death. Unlucky for him, Hubert clearly did not find the subject nearly as funny.

"I suppose I shouldn't have asked you such things while under the influence," he mumbled, his own voice slightly garbled.

Edelgard raised an eyebrow in a challenge, amused by his point of view.

"Do you think my answer would have been any different?"

"No."

It was his turn to let out a dry laugh, but Edelgard's humor dried just as quickly.

"Do you trust me so little that you cannot give me the benefit of the doubt in this battle?"

Hubert's eyes darted back to hers, his mouth parted in a stupor. It took him a moment to answer back her melancholic answer, his brows furrowed as he clenched his teeth.

"Of course not. I'm fully confident that you can win this battle—"

"You are just not as confident that it will happen," she cut him off, completing his line of thought easily.

"Claude is a schemer, Your Majesty. There is no predicting what he has on his mind. All I can do is prepare for everything that I can think of and we certainly don't have the time for it."

"Then we will do what we can," her voice softened, as a passing thought gnawed on her mind. She rested her back on the chair, enlacing her fingers over her knees.

His face tightened as he fiddled with the button on his collar. The hand on the glass of wine went limp, resting on the small table.

"As you wish."

Edelgard blinked slowly, her dear friend unconvinced. Perhaps it was the effect of the alcohol in her veins. Maybe she would have done it even sober. Regardless, she found herself reaching for his hand, crimson gauntlets contrasting with his white gloves. To her surprise, he flinched under her touch but didn’t quite retreat, freezing in place instead.

Her fingers curled around his, drawing a small smile from her lips. Despite the armor, his hand still dwarfed hers, but she still remembered that once it wasn't like that.

"Do you remember that, when were children, you were the runt out of two of us?"

Hubert raised an eyebrow in surprise, but soon his face relaxed.

"I do," he whispered, "Before… the incident."

"Yes."

His fingers tentatively curled around hers, the flush of his cheeks all too apparent — was it the alcohol? — in the moonlight.

"You were taller than I was back then. I do remember it was quite a pathetic sight this little boy running around with his short legs to appease his young liege with all sort of 'pick me flowers' or 'fetch me milk' requests."

Edelgard scoffed, her own memories resurfacing. Memories made of glass. Just as easily breakable and would cut her if she came too close of the shards. Moments locked in amber. Hubert hovering around her even when she played with her siblings. His tiny, white gloves that he wore since such a young age. The burden of the servile noble, bound to no land or citizens, but to a lineage of emperors. Hubert, unaware of her internal musings, continued mumbling, eyes focused on some distant point in the window, as if he was lost in his own mind.

"Back then, my father had told me that I was your servant. Of course, I had only seen the servants that worked for the nobles and I thought I was the same," his lips twitched, an unreadable flash of emotion flaring behind his golden eyes, "Nevertheless, once you came back from the Kingdom, the difference in our heights was startling."

"And it has lasted ever since."

"So it did," he whispered, eyes closing slowly as he raised his chin.

She tightened her hand around his, allowing herself to feel his grip back. And so she dared to make a question, shaking him off his own thoughts.

"Do you miss what you had?"

His eyes snapped open, darting back to meet hers as his hand twitches under her fingers.

"What?"

His eloquence failed him for once, enough to draw a smile out of her lips.

"You were thinking about retreating, weren't you? About fleeing this wretched situation we are in. Would it be so extraordinary for you to want to come back to those halcyon days?"

Hubert tilted his head to the side and did something that not even Edelgard could have predicted.

He laughed. Surely, if there had been any unfortunate guards surrounding her doors, odds were they ran as soon as possible by the malignant chuckle.

"Lady Edelgard, if there is one thing that I _ don't _ want is to wallow in nostalgia uselessly, nor do I want to leave your side," he shook his head, but the hint of a smirk persisted, "I entrust my life to you and even if those days of the past may appear good, as we are so distant of it, I can assure you that there is no time like the present and I will never leave your side."

_ Even if it means my death. _

The implied conclusion to his confession lingered in the air, like fog hazing the battlefield. But his eyes pierced through it, staring back at her as he pledged his life once more. He tentatively squeezed her grip back, enlacing her fingers with his, tracing the lines and dips of her gauntlets with a thumb. A hesitant demonstration of affection, but one that Edelgard was for nevertheless. It was a rare sight, one that she appreciated very much on those trying times. 

Edelgard released a sigh of relief, enjoying their brief moment of constructed peace. A rather brief moment, as Hubert slipped his hand away, retreating suddenly. She raised an eyebrow, craning her neck to look him in the eyes as he got up. Hubert was still flushed, but his face was a mask carved from stone as he bowed down in respect. 

“If you will excuse me, Your Majesty, it is late and I still have a few tasks to carry out.”

She flinched back, tempted to ask a hesitant “are you sure?’, to ask for confirmation that she just witnessed Hubert putting up his barriers again, the fragile trust that he put on her taken back. But it lasted just a breath, as she squared her shoulders, but the sinking sensation in her stomach remained.

“Very well,” she waved a dismissal, enough for him to turn on his heels and walk away. Once he reached for the doorknob, his hand frozen in place. Hubert glanced over his shoulder, making eye contact for one last time as he said, “Goodnight, Lady Edelgard.”

“Goodnight, Hubert,” she answered back, as he nodded and left the room. 

Edelgard rested her back in the chair, face impassive as the memory of the heat of his hand stayed with her. He was never someone prone to physical affection, in fact, she remembers with a degree of detachment that she had never witnessed Hubert hugging anyone. With her, he was far too formal and distant, assuming the role of servant to the core. With anyone else, he was intimidating and aloof, keeping his distance at all costs.

Without her trusted partner at her side, the rest of the wine, still on the bottle, didn’t have the same appeal. As she scowled, Edelgard reached the conclusion it wasn’t worth continuing to drink. Short of drinking, all she could do to waste a night of insomnia way would be to continue to work, for she knew there was much to be done.

Still, her mind lingered uselessly with her faithful servant, whose moods were incomprehensible if not contradictory at times. Then again, she pondered, who wasn’t?

Starting a war in order to bring peace?

She couldn’t blame him.

* * *

Hubert sat down on his office, trying to blank his mind of everything that had happened in Edelgard’s quarters. He quickly scrambled for a set of paper, writing down in his rushed caligraphy, hoping that it would end up legible.

_If you are reading this letter that means I have perished. As Her Majesty would never surrender to another, I can only assume she has fallen as well._

It was pointless to wallow in whatever decisions he took.

_ It greatly pains me to think of this coming to pass… _

He had always been a rational person to the extreme and his mind knew it had been for the best to leave when he did, namely before he could make a fool out of himself.

_ That said, as the survivors, I must ask you to settle certain affairs in our stead. _

The alcohol in his veins settled in, but it was no matter. Since she refused his offering of a retreat, then he would have to resort to other methods. 

_ You must destroy the threat that slithers in the dark. _

There were other priorities that had to be taken care of. 

_ I am sure you must recall Monica and Tomas. Their allies yet live. _

Other enemies that lingered in the dark for far too long and even if Claude and his army won, Hubert could never allow those who brought such suffering to Lady Edelgard to live any longer. 

_ They hold deep resentment of the Children of the Goddess and the people of the world, and they are biding their time until they can exact revenge. _

His feelings about the matter weren’t a priority.

_ If left to their own devices, it is certain that they will eventually bring unimaginable calamity and suffering to the world. _

The only thing that mattered was guaranteeing that, even if came to the worst, those who slither in the dark could be purged from the shadows. 

_ I detected their sorcery when you took Fort Merceus. _

Claude and Byleth were never too much of a threat in his calculations back in the Monastery.

_ I have deduced the location of their stronghold, Shambhala. You will find its whereabouts enclosed. _

To say the pair weren’t wildcards for him, of course, would be a lie. Unfortunately, his calculations had failed him. But Hubert hoped that, at least, his machinations would fail him enough so that the pair could do what they must, in case everything he strived for failed. 

_ There is no question that they are the enemies of everyone in Fódlan. Do not allow yourselves to forget that. _

Hubert hesitated for a moment but then proceeded to write.

_ Lastly, while I cannot say she is in good health, the archbishop resides in a secret chamber in the Imperial Palace. _

If the Alliance ended up winning, then they might as well get what they came for.

_ I have shared the location of the entrance to that secret chamber with the person to whom I have entrusted this letter. _

His hand trembled for a moment, the ink dripping on the white paper, a stain of his hesitation. Still, he was never ashamed of his trust in her and so he continued. 

_ I believe that Her Majesty will be victorious, even still I must plan for the defeat as well._

He had never estimate either Claude or Byleth would go far. They didn’t seem to have the resolve and cold-blood necessary to rule Fódlan. Still, now Hubert could easily see how he was mistaken, at least to a degree. 

_ If you wish to lead this world, then I challenge you to rise to the occasion and surpass my estimate of you. _

If their will and intent were as peace-driven as they claimed, Hubert could at least hope for honor for the fallen as well.

_ Such is your obligation as the victors and the only fitting tribute to all that Lady Edelgard sacrificed. _

With the last line, quickly written, Hubert let out a breath, signing his name. 

_ Marquis Hubert von Vestra, Minister of the Imperial Household of the Adestrian Empire. _

Folding over and placing it properly on its envelope, sealing it with wax and the House Vestra sigil, as proof that there was no foul play involved. He gave his word and he meant it, regardless of what his traitorous soul had to say about the matter. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was Lady Edelgard’s victory and, in case that couldn’t happen, then at least he could ensure those who take over after her know that they sacrificed far too much for their path and act accordingly. 

The light of day started to shine on his desk, the night vanishing far too fast for his liking. Nevertheless, Hubert merely stretched his arms, witnessing the edge of dawn, as time betrayed them. Slithering closer and closer to the next battle. He shook his head, storming off his office. There were so many variables in a war. He just ensured one possibility. There was still another to be done. Hubert gulped, his throat dry, but there was no hesitation in his eyes.

* * *

_ Knock. _

_ Knock. _

_ Knock. _

“I’m up, I’m up,” Dorothea mumbled, rubbing the sleep off her eyes. She gazed outside, half-fearing she had just slept away the whole morning and her mouth dropped when saw the sky mixed in shades of purple and golden. Until she noticed it was dawn. 

“General Arnault,” a gruff voice rumbled from the other side of the door, addressing her by the title that she hated to the core, “Marquis Vestra demands your presence immediately. It is a matter of utmost importance, he says.” 

If she hadn’t woke up properly until then, now Dorothea had. A wave of cold rushed through her veins, gripping at her chest. _ More fighting,_ her mind snapped immediately. It was unlike Hubie to summon her presence, even less so in the early morning like that. It could only mean trouble, nothing else came as a reasonable possibility in her mind. 

She quickly dressed up, ignoring make-up although. It was clear that the subject could not wait and Hubie was hardly known for his patience. 

Once she opened the door, she saw herself face-to-face with cold-faced lieutenant general, holding a folded letter in his hand. For a moment she thought it was for her, the sigil of House Vesta glistening in green wax, but the man retreated his hand quickly.

"Lord Vestra awaits for you in his office." 

He gestured for her to follow and Dorothea hesitated for a moment, knowing that he was guiding her to the den of the viper, as they said. Not that she had ever been afraid of Hubie, not truly. But she knew better than to trust him fully as well. Hubert only had eyes to Edelgard, something that she caught on quickly back at the monastery, a simpler time when her priority was finding someone to marry. He had been quickly ruled out, because of his "intolerable personality", even though now she knew better than to think he was so bad. Not like he was an option anyway, as it swiftly became clear that his attention was for Edie and Edie alone.

Soon enough, they were right in front of Hubie's door, at which point 

Dorothea took a deep breath, knocking gently on his door. She barely had time to try for a second knock, as the door opened suddenly.

Instead of wood, she found herself staring back to a pair of golden eyes. And…

Oh dear.

Hubert looked like he had just been ran over by a Demonic Beast, at least for his standards. His usual bangs were slicked back, like he had run his fingers through his hair one too many times. As if that wasn't enough, his eyes were sunken into his face, the pale skin streching over his bones in unnaturally sharp angles, giving him an even more ghastly appearance than usual.

Worse, Hubert looked like he was hungover.

She had never seen him touch as much as a glass of wine, Goddess forbid seeing him drunk. 

"Hubie," she couldn't control her surprise as he stared back at her, "Wow. You look terrible. Did something happened?"

He grunted, eyes narrowing.

"Nothing worth fretting over," he dismissed her thought, despite her unconvinced scoff, "Enter. I have more important subjects at hand."

Before giving her a chance to express her indignation, he turned on his heels, forcing her to follow along. She closed the door behind her. In the viper's den. The thought was amusing at best, considering that said viper just collapsed on a chair, picking up a mug of dark coffee, probably with no sugar, cream or honey. Black like his soul, as once Lin had commented.

The thought made her wince, biting her bottom lip as Hubert gulped down what looked like an entire mug of burning coffee. Once he was finished, he let out a breath and Dorothea half-expected smoke to come out. Not only that didn't happen, but also his eyes darted back to her, analyzing her every move. If there was one thing that the rumors about the Emperor's pet snake were true, it would be regarding Hubert's cold blood.

"As I said, I invited you here so we can talk about a subject of utmost importance."

"Our next battle, I presume," she cut him off, rolling her eyes.

"No, at least not directly," he attempted to soothe her nervousness, but it was far from Hubert's area of expertise.

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. It's not like Dorothea was new to battle, but the Goddess knew how much she despised it. She was a songstress and a performer; she had come to Garreg Mach in order to finf herself a husband. Now all that she could hope for was helping Edie's cause. A just and noble cause, yes, but it's not like she could simply forget the blood in her hands. And if Hubert had a request, she couldn't see how it would involve more blood.

As if reading her mind, Hubert dismissed her thoughts with a wave.

"Do not worry, I can guarantee it isn't anything too worrisome."

"What is it, Hubie?"

She snapped in response, eyes narrowing, suspecting his unusual, roundabout words. In response, his lips curled up in a smirk, but his eyes were still just as dull.

"I've been planning for every possible outcome for the battle against the Alliance forces soon. All that I want is that you could help Edelgard maintain herself in control, so she does not stray from her path."

Dorothea tilted her head to the side, eyes widening with the unusual request. Why would he want her to do his duty, the one that he so much adored? There was only one option.

"In case you die," she completed his line of thought, granting her an appreciative nod.

"Precisely," his fingers tapped on the mug, with no rhyme or rhythm, merely a manifestation of anxiety, "I also do not wish to die and leave Lady Edelgard without her protector, but I have to analyze every single outcome. If I am to die, I would truly appreciate if you could serve her in my stead."

Goddess, he is talking seriously.

Not that she would expect otherwise from Hubie, out of all people. He also had just dragged her out of bed before the crack of dawn. She shouldn't be surprised. But she was, the dread seeping through her heart, as even Hubert, whose proximity to death was unnervingly present in most of his actions, was now planning for his own death.

Dorothea shook her head, avoiding her mind from going down this dangerous path. Instead, she answered him, as truthfully as she could.

"Very well, if that is what you consider a topic that isn't too worrisome, I don't want to know what you actually consider a problem. But I truly believe that you won't die and leave Edie without her protector, will you, Hubie?"

For what was probably the first time in all the five years she knew him, Hubie visibly retreated from her questions, squinting his eyes in a wince.

"I surely hope this will not come to pass. I have to take the adequate precautions, regardless."

Dorothea nodded, fidgeting with the hem of her clothes.

"Say, Hubie, can I make a question for you as well?"

"Very well. Say it."

"Do you remember a conversation that we had about your feelings for Edie, back when we were students in the monastery?"

Hubert raised an eyebrow and Dorothea could hardly blame him. She would be suspicious as well in his position.

"Yes, I do remember your relentless insistence on topics that I didn't want to discuss. I assure you, it is a hard sight to forget."

"Well, do you remember that I asked you if you followed Edie out of love, like a servant pining for his mistress?"

"Yes. As I said, it is hard to forget."

Dorothea took in a deep breath, steadying her resolve.

"I wasn't completely wrong, was I?"

Hubert's eyes snapped back to hers, his mouth a tense line. Dorothea sustained his gaze back, having dealt with Hubie for far too long. She was treading on thin ice, but it was a price she was willing to pay. Until Hubert blinked, the viper's snare broken as his shoulders tensed.

"No. You weren't completely wrong."

The phrase lingered in the air, along with all its implications. For a moment, Dorothea couldn't breath and seemed that neither could Hubert, dully staring her back.

"Well," she started, her throat suddenly dry, "Hubert, I…"

She trailed off, as Hubert raised a hand, asking her to stop.

"There is no need for such commotion. Feelings such as these only harm our goals in the long run," he paused, almost as if he was hesitating, "It is a trifle, a small problem that I will have to deal with myself. Before I commit any other mistakes."

Hubert flexed his left hand, his eyes focused on the movement of his own fingers. Dorothea, in contrast, stood motionless, dumb-founded as Hubert got up.

"Hubie," she hissed, "So your plan also involved the possibility of dying and never telling her any of this?"

"As I said, it isn't worth her time."

"What do you mean, Hubie? You're the most important person in the world for her and you bury your feelings?"

Hubert clenched his jaw, eyes gleaming with golden burden. The fearsome Marquis Vestra, the viper hissing.

"I told you once. My feelings on the matter have no importance."

Dorothea stared back at him dumbfounded, still incapable of understanding him. Until a ideia snapped inside her mind. Of course. She didn't need to understand him. Just to convince him.

"Alright, Hubie, I give up asking for information. I just want a little promise instead."

Hubert raised an eyebrow, now suspecting her promises without any prompt.

"Say it then."

"If we all get out of this alive, then you have to confess to Edelgard. She deserves to know. Also, who knows? You're very dear to her as well."

Hubert's eyes widened, a comic sight, as he took in a breath, almost spoke something but then his mouth closed suddenly. And then, for a second, Dorothea noticed an innocent flicker of light in his eyes, a rare sight indeed, as if the prospect had been in the back of his mind and only now came to life. Until he answered her back.

"Very well. If we all survive, I will tell her."

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/Comments/Feedback are always appreciated!!! Thank you for reading.


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